619. All the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today. ~Author Unknown

Sacred Touches

dry seeds scatter
from my hand into the wind
one clings
as if to say there is in me
something yet to be
~Jeanne Emrich

Screen shot 2015-01-21 at 5.02.41 PM

Here in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shrivelled, scentless, dry –
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.
In this brown husk a dale of hawthorn dreams;
A cedar in this narrow cell is thrust
That will drink deeply of a century’s streams;
These lilies shall make summer on my dust.
Here in their safe and simple house of death,
Sealed in their shells, a million roses leap;
Here I can blow a garden with my breath,
And in my hand a forest lies asleep.
~Muriel Stuart

Screen shot 2015-01-21 at 5.26.57 PM

See how seeds, that Autumn winds send,
And throughout Winter neglected lay,
Uncoil two little green leaves at one end,
With tiny root at the other…

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3 thoughts on “619. All the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today. ~Author Unknown”

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